


the ignorance of lio fotia

by hiyoris_scarf



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Stupidity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23178580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiyoris_scarf/pseuds/hiyoris_scarf
Summary: “Subject One,” says Meis. “Galo Thymos.” The words GALO THYMOS erupt across the projection in bright red block letters.“Subject Two,” Meis continues. “Lio Fotia.” Lio beholds his own face next to Galo’s, his name blasted in the same bright red font.Then, the on-screen Galo turns to look at the on-screen Lio, and his eyes explode into hearts.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 27
Kudos: 336





	the ignorance of lio fotia

**Author's Note:**

> i was so honored and happy to write this for the promare charity e-zine, [spark of hope](https://twitter.com/sparkofhopezine). all the proceeds from the zine are donated to nsw & qld fire services to fight the bushfires in australia.

“I think you’re mistaken.”

Lio gazes sternly across the table at Gueira and Meis, who both look somewhat shell-shocked. He can’t exactly blame them. Their display of ignorance _is_ a bit humiliating.

“Boss,” Gueira says incredulously. “Are you serious?”

“Dead so.”

Lio takes a delicate sip of coffee from a mug printed with the declaration: **I** ♥ **FIREFIGHTING**

Meis settles his elbows on the table and leans his chin on his interlocked fingers: his debating posture. Lio sighs, setting his coffee down.

“Spit it out, please,” he says. “And my break is over in six minutes, so try not to wax too eloquent.”

Meis cracks a smile, mouth full of shark teeth.

“Oh, I don’t think it’ll take that long, Boss.”

Lio’s eyes narrow to slits. This really is a waste of time. He could have been drinking mediocre coffee in silence during his short break, rather than holding the world’s most pointless argument with his two erstwhile subordinates.

“Five minutes,” he bites out.

“Gueira,” Meis says quietly. Gueira produces a clicker, and a translucent screen shimmers into view above the table between Lio and the other two. Projected onto it is a familiar face grinning down at him. Lio frowns.

“Subject One,” says Meis. “Galo Thymos.” The words **GALO THYMOS** erupt across the projection in bright red block letters.

“Subject Two,” Meis continues. “Lio Fotia.” Lio beholds his own face next to Galo’s, his name blasted in the same bright red font.

Then, the on-screen Galo turns to look at the on-screen Lio, and his eyes explode into hearts.

“I rest my case,” Meis states, leaning back in his chair as Gueira clicks the hologram off. Lio looks between them, speechless at the shared idiocy of two of the smartest people he knows.

“ _That_ was your argument?”

Gueira, unable to contain himself any longer, slams both hands on the table and rattles all three of their coffee mugs.

“Boss, he couldn’t make it more obvious without tying himself up in a big bow and mailing himself to you,” he says, struggling to moderate his voice.

Lio, consummately unimpressed, takes another sip of coffee.

“I will say it only once more: you two are mistaken,” he says in a measured tone. “Galo Thymos is not carrying a torch for me.”

Gueira slumps facedown on the table. Meis pats his back comfortingly.

“Boss,” he says. “Please. Think about it. Think about it _very_ hard.”

And to his credit, Lio does think about it.

He thinks Galo is one of the loudest, friendliest, most sanguine people he’s ever met.

Lio thinks that Galo is a person who shows affection through physicality. And he also thinks that Galo feels affection towards a great many people. He shows it in the way he ruffles Aina’s hair when she passes, or slaps Varys’ shoulder after a particularly heroic mission, or hoists Lucia onto his shoulders so she can reach the top shelf without climbing onto the counter. Galo has an astonishingly large heart: one that seeks others, and is indiscriminate in its efforts to warm and be warmed.

But Lio cannot afford to misappropriate any warmth Galo has directed his way. He doesn’t think his own heart—the stunted, anemic thing it is—could weather a disappointment.

“All right,” he says. “I’ve thought about it.”

“And…?” Meis leans forward. Gueira’s thick eyebrows furrow in anticipation.

“I think I’ll give you both double shifts if you have enough time to make slideshows about my love life.”

: : :

To their credit, they don’t bring Lio another visual aid. But the next time Meis and Gueira corner him, it’s with Galo himself as the test subject.

“Hey. Boss.”

Lio pointedly does not look up, his eyes scanning the claustrophobic text of the _Promepolis Post_ ’s front page. Galo is all the way over on the other side of the room, doing something loud and unnecessary to his Matoi with Lucia’s enthusiastic assistance.

“Boss!” Gueira’s whisper is urgent.

“I’m reading.”

“No,” Meis says. “You aren’t.”

Lio reluctantly folds the newspaper.

“Do you two ever actually do any _work_?” he demands, matching their low voices.

Meis arches a graceful eyebrow. “Deflecting already, Boss?”

“I’m not deflecting,” Lio growls. “What is it _this_ time?”

Gueira just grins as Aina walks into the room, tossing her Burning Rescue jacket onto the couch.

“Just watch. Hey, Aina!”

She looks up, then comes over to their table. Her eyes dart between Meis and Gueira, and then to Lio, reading the silent tension.

“What’s up?” she asks, almost suspiciously.

“Why don’t you tell the big guy he did good out there today?”

Aina narrows her eyes. Gueira’s face splits into an even wider grin.

“Galo?” she asks. “Why?”

Lio snatches up the newspaper again, stuffing his nose in it.

“They’re worse than bloodhounds, Aina,” he says from deep within the pages. “Just do whatever it takes to get them off your scent.”

Aina, thoroughly baffled, turns around.

“Hey, Galo,” she calls out. “Good job out there today!”

Galo stops fiddling with his Matoi and looks up. Lio hazards a glance at his face, and nearly goes blind from the smile on it. He sinks back into the newspaper, heart crashing against his ribs like a caged animal. That smile is a public health hazard. Surely there are laws.

“Thanks, Aina!” Galo replies. “You too! You should show off your fancy flyin’ more often.”

Lucia taps his elbow, returning his attention to something Matoi-related, and Aina glances quizzically at the three former Burnish.

“Any of you feel like telling me what that was about?” she asks.

“Not really,” Gueira says. “But thanks!”

As Aina walks away, muttering under her breath, Lio’s head emerges from the newspaper.

“I can only assume that had something to do with your absurd hypothesis.”

Meis rests his chin in one palm, his eyes full of cold deliberation.

“You forced our hand, Boss.”

Meis cuts his eyes over to Galo, who seems, if Lio’s interpretation of his gestures is accurate, to be pressing Lucia to add a laser-cannon to his Matoi Tech.

“And now it’s your turn,” Gueira says.

Lio balks. “Wait, wh—”

“So Boss,” Meis’ voice isn’t loud, but it cuts through the air like a scythe through wheat. “What was it you were saying earlier about that big lug’s firefighting technique?”

On the other side of the room, something metallic hits the ground with a deep _clunk_ , like a wrench being dropped.

“Yeah!” Gueira chimes in. “How did you put it, exactly? I can’t seem to remember the specifics.”

Lio wishes he could still summon hellfire to his fingertips, because both his former generals could look a bit less delighted at the way Galo has abandoned any interest in his Matoi Tech.

“Did I mention anything of the sort?” Lio grits out. “Or are you sure you didn’t _just imagine it_?”

Meis and Gueira are struggling to keep their composure as Galo unsubtly maneuvers himself into better earshot.

“No, Boss, you _definitely_ had thoughts,” Gueira says weakly.

It doesn’t take much to untangle their little scheme. They asked Aina to compliment Galo first, so Lio could see his normal response. Apparently they expect his reaction to Lio’s praise to be a bit more spectacular.

They are fools.

Lio sighs. It’s a shame, really, that his friends’ intelligence departed along with their Promare.

“Very well,” he breathes. Then, in a voice barely above a murmur, he says: “Yes, I suppose Galo did a fine job toda—”

Lio’s voice chokes off as Galo materializes next to the table, his expression rapt.

“You do?!” he cries out, overjoyed.

Gueira makes a bizarre noise, like a strangled cat, and vanishes under the table. Meis steeples his fingers and hides the lower half of his face behind them.

Lio stares up at Galo. Everything inside his head evaporates, replaced by high-pitched, keening static.

“Do I…what?” he asks numbly.

It’s so hard to think with Galo’s abs just. Right there.

“You think I did a good job!” Galo looks like someone has just offered him unlimited free pizza, and also the moon.

“Well,” Lio manages to say, “You did.”

Meis and Gueira are both making odd sounds, and in the small part of Lio’s brain that isn’t buzzing, he realizes they’re trying to suppress laughter.

“I’m so happy!” Galo proclaims, as though his blinding smile doesn’t adequately communicate that.

The wheels of Lio’s mind slowly creak back into motion.

Yes, he has to acknowledge, it does seem that Galo…greatly values his feedback. As a colleague, of course.

Because that’s really what they are: colleagues. Possibly friends, Lio admits. Friends, who have in the very recent past piloted a planet-sized mechanical monstrosity fueled by fire and human spirit, and maybe…perhaps there _is_ a little affection there, but nothing more.

“I think you did a wonderful job too, Lio!”

And Galo grips him by the arms, lifting him bodily out of his seat and pulling him into his chest. Gueira and Meis flee the room, cackling like hyenas.

“I think you do _everything_ wonderfully!”

“Galo,” Lio wheezes as he’s crushed against Galo’s solid pecs. “Ow—”

After some squirming, he loosens Galo’s grip on him enough to stare him dead in the face.

“Put me down.”

Galo’s eyes go wide.

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

Galo gently lowers him until his feet touch the floor again. Lio straightens his clothes, then squares himself to face Galo.

“All right. What the _hell_ was that?”

The ecstatic look on Galo’s face slides into a hesitant, kicked-puppy expression. Lio’s heart promptly rips itself in half.

“I just—” Galo says, right as Lio jumps in: “Never mind, it’s fine—”

They stare at each other, locked in silent misery on two sides of an invisible wall.

“For fuck’s sake!” Lucia explodes. Galo and Lio both jump. They’d forgotten she was still in the room. “This is a _thousand_ times worse than watching Remi try to waltz with his alligator girlfriend.”

“Really?” replies Aina, who has been on the couch the entire time. “Because that was pretty bad.”

Before Lio can ask “what alligator girlfriend,” Galo cups his face in his (large, warm) hands.

“I’m sorry I lost my cool there, Lio,” he says earnestly. “I just thought…maybe, at last, you had…”

“Had what?” Lio asks, his voice weak and punched-out.

“I thought you were finally starting to like me.” Galo’s eyebrows scrunch together, adorably. “Back, I mean.”

In the recesses of his mind, Lio wonders if Galo accidentally choked him into unconsciousness and this is all a dream.

“Like you… _back_?”

“Yeah. I thought I was being too obvious about it—I mean, everyone told me I was being really aggressive, so I tried to dial it back, but I’m not _good_ at that, and…”

Galo’s voice fades into static, because Lio’s brain has turned to water. He wouldn’t be surprised if it melted right out his ears.

_Obvious. Aggressive._

“Idiot,” whispers Lio.

“Yeah,” Galo says sadly. “I guess so.”

“No. Not you.”

Galo’s eyebrows scrunch even closer together. He’s still cupping Lio’s face.

Lio doubles down.

“I’m going to do something now,” he says. “That I think will save us some time.”

He goes on tiptoe, and presses his lips to Galo’s.

It’s a peck, really: quick and chaste, but Lio still feels like he jammed a fork into an electrical socket. As they separate, the look on Galo’s face suggests he feels something similar.

“You’re right,” he says, gravelly. “That does save time.”

“Should we save some more?”

Galo, temporarily mute, nods, and pulls Lio in for a considerably longer and less chaste kiss.

Lucia cups her hands around her mouth and hollers: _“Yooo,_ everybody _,_ it’s finally happening!”

Aina chides: “Come on, they don’t need everyone watching.”

Lucia just guffaws. “Sore because you owe me twenty bucks now, huh?”

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @kakuseisuperfly / @scarftalks  
> tumblr: @winterscarf


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